


Pot, Kettle

by OneForMischief



Series: a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Hulk Junk, Lab Bromance, The Author Regrets Nothing, hulk pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneForMischief/pseuds/OneForMischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In-between scene featuring Tony annoying Bruce in the lab and talk of Hulk wardrobe malfunctions.</p>
<p>So, I've gotten the Hulk-junk out of my system and can get back to taking this story seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pot, Kettle

“As amusing as I usually find your ego to be, you’ve got to consider the possibility that this has nothing to do with you,” Bruce smirks, leaning around Tony to grab a pair of scissors. Tony gets to them first and spins out of the way, waving them and shooting Bruce a pointed look.

Banner glares halfheartedly over his glasses, but Tony ignores him.

“You don’t think there’s a connection between me asking Tasha what was in the report and Sitwell sending she and Barton off on a top secret mission to fuck knows where? Really?”

“Okay, maybe she did ask for the mission. Either way, she’s not here, and I need those, unless you’re cool with seeing my junk again.”

“It’s not the seeing your junk that freaked me out, you know,” Tony says, handing them over. “It was seeing the Hulk’s junk turn into your junk that really traumatized me.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen it for myself, but I’ll take your word on that one,” Bruce chuckles. He studies the fabric for a moment before putting the scissors down. “I think we’re doing this wrong.”

Tony hums dismissively, still thinking about Natasha – the shrug of a bright blue shoulder, a hesitant lie about not remembering the details, the cheerful flash of her hair in the sun when she left early the next morning. He had known better than to push at the time, although now he isn’t even sure where that came from.

“Tony!”

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you thought it might hold better if it were seamless,” Bruce replies, raising his eyebrows with knowing amusement.

“Like one of those really stretchy sports bras. Smart thinking.”

“Aaaaand now I’m picturing the other guy in a sports bra. Get out of my lab,” Bruce laughs, shoving him.

"You're not helping me, Bruce!"

"Pot, kettle."


End file.
